The Random Tales of Voldemort and Quirrell
by Lila Johanna
Summary: Taken place in Book 1 and inspired by AVPM, these are some stories of what these two experienced together...
1. Dark Wizard's Chess

**My very first Harry Potter fanfiction! This idea came from A Very Potter Musical, which I do not own, because I loved every scene where Voldemort and Quirrell where in! I also don't own Harry Potter, in case you were wondering.**

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><p><strong>Dark Wizard's Chess<strong>

"What? How could you?" Voldemort asked his turban sharing slave. "I thought-"

"Well, you thought wrong, my lord!" Professor Quirrell said proudly. His white knight had just taken out one of his master's black bishops.

"Ugh! You'll be sorry!" Voldemort sneered as Quirrell walked to the other side of the Wizard's Chess table. He stood so his back was facing it and so was Voldemort's face.

"Hmmm..." Voldemort said, examining his black army. He chose black because, well, he was the _Dark_ Lord. Hehe. Well, he thought it was clever. He cleared his throat. "Castle to D-5." His castle moved foward, striking down a white pawn. "HA! See that, Quirrell?"

"Ooo! You just killed my pawn! What ever shall I do?" The professer said sarcastically.

"Shut up." The other wizard said as Quirrell moved to his side of the board. Voldemort now faced the window in Quirrell's office. He could see that students were playing in the snow, having fun, laughing. It made him sick.

Then he noticed two bright orange heads running into the castle. He reconized them. "QUIRRELL!" He cried. His slave jumped. "Look! It's them!"

"Who, my lord?" Quirrell asked, turning toward the window.

Voldy now couldn't see, so he said, "Those two gingers! The ones who bewitched snowballs to hit my face!"

"Um...I think they were just trying to knock of the turban, my lord." Quirrell said nervously.

Voldemort scoffed, "Pshaw. They know. I know they know."

Quirrell threw up his hands, "They're 13 year old _kids_, for Merlin's sake! You really think they're smart enough to know that you're here secretly planning to kill Harry Potter?"

"Shut up!" His master said, glancing around, "That's a secret plan for a reason!"

Quirrell stomped his foot. "Stop telling me to shut up! I get it enough from Flitwick and the students! I _don't _need it from you, too!"

Voldemort's face boiled with fury. "DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"

"You know, I didn't _have_ to share my body with you!"

"Ah, but you did!"

"Well, maybe I've changed my mind." Quirrell crossed his arms. Even though his master couldn't see his expression, he was rather angry himself.

Voldemort sighed and said to him, "Look, I apologize. I shouldn't have shouted. I _am_ grateful that you let me borrow the back of your head for mine. And just remember, when Harry's dead and I have the Stone, we'll have our own bodies back again!"

Quirrell gave a little smile. "Yeah!"

"Yeah! See, I know what I'm doing! Now, let's get back to that chess game, eh?"

"Okay, my lord!" Quirrell rushed over to the table. He stroked his chin, examining the pieces. Then he grinned, and said clearly, "Queen to E-4."

The queen slid foward. The professor turned so his master could see what was going to happen. The white queen took out the black king. "Checkmate!" Quirrell yelled, pumping his fist in the air.

"Aw, what?" The Dark Lord said as Quirrell did a victory dance. "Best two out of three?"

"Sure thing, my lord" Quirrell said, smiling to himself.

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><p><strong>AN: What did you think? Please review (I love to read them) and thanks so much for reading!**

**HP 4eva!**


	2. A Little Joke

**Hey everyone! I've decided to change this one chapter story into a series of tales by The Noseless One and His Turban Slave. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>A Little Joke<strong>

Watching a bunch of Six Years was probably the most boring thing in the world. Well, at least to Voldemort. From the tiny crack in Quirrell's turban, he could see the classroom. And trust me, it wasn't exactly exciting.

Quirrell had been turned around for a while, trying to find yesterday's quizzes. Voldemort had been staring at the students, trying to find something entertaining. So far he looked at a pimply Hufflepuff pick his nose and a curly haired Ravenclaw make out with her boyfriend. This was soooo not helping his boredom.

"They're here somewhere." Quirrell muttered to himself as he looked through another pile of parchment. The Dark Lord rolled his eyes. He had to to everything himself.

He took a deep breath and did something he hadn't done since the days at the orphanage. He put his lips together and let out a quick gush of air between them. The result was a tiny fart-like noise.

Every single student looked up. Even the chubby Hufflepuff who had fallen asleep. Some short boy in the back laughed loudly and Quirrell spun around. His face turned red. "That wasn't me!" He protested.

Voldemort giggled to himself. Then he made the noise again, except louder. More students laughed.

Quirrell's face turned even redder as he said, "I swear! That's not me!"

Of course, since the Heir of Slytherin thought that the professor deserved it for beating him at Wizard's Chess, he made another noise. This one extra long.

All the stupid teenagers laughed and pointed at their teacher. Quirrell couldn't stand it, so he ran to the supply closet and slammed the door behind him.

"My lord, why did you do that?" He whispered to his master as he took off his turban.

Voldemort laughed, "Oh, Quirrell that was _so hilarious!"_

"Yeah! For you! Not me!"

"Ugh, man! You worry too much! It was just a little joke! Geez!"

"'A little joke?' Really? Now the kids are making fun of me! Just when I got them to think I was cool!" Quirrell told him.

"Pshhh, you were never cool." Voldy reassured him.

Quirrell sighed and slumped against the wall, careful not to smash his master's face. "What am I going to do? I can't go back out there!"

"Listen, Quirrell." Voldemort said firmly. "You need to man up and make those kids know you are the boss!"

"How?" He asked.

"Give them all detention!"

"What? I couldn't! That's mean!"

"Hey! They deserve it! And you _do _have the Dark Lord on the back of your skull, so you have to do what I say!"

"You...you're right!" Quirrell got up, and put the turban back on. "I'm gonna do it!"

"That a boy, Quirrell!" Voldemort said, his face now covered by purple cloth.

Quirrell threw open the door and marched to the front of the classroom. Students were trying to hide their smiles behind their hands. He glared at all of them for a long time before shouting, "You're all getting a detention for disrespecting your teacher!"

They all groaned and that short kid stood up and asked, "WHAT?"

"That's right! Tonight. All of you." He nodded evily, "And if you don't come, you won't pass this class and will have to answer to Dumbledore!"

Groaning again. Most girls crossed their arms and the boys imangined bad things happening to their professor. "Class dismissed." He orderd. They all got up and took their books, glaring at Quirrell.

When they all were gone he got the courage to ask, "How was that, my lord?"

"Very manly. I suggest an evil look next time. With a raised eyebrow." He told him, "I would give you a high-five if I could."

"Thanks, my lord. That really means a lot." Quirrell said honestly.

Voldemort coughed uncomfortably, "Yeah, no problem. Now lets go find some dung bombs and throw them at first years!"

"Okay, my lord!" And that's exactly what they did.

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><p><strong>AN: Whadya think? I plan to write more little stories about this odd couple. Please review and thanks for reading!**

**HP 4eva!**


	3. Almost Killed by a Pillow

**Almost Killed by a Pillow**

It was exactly 2:00 p.m. at Hogwarts castle. It was as silent as a tomb, almost every person sound asleep. Including Professor Quirrell and his master Lord Voldemort.

They had decided that Quirrell would lay on his side, so Voldemort wouldn't have to suffocate in the pillow all night. And that's exactly how he lay tonight, on his side.

Except, Quirrell now accidentally rolled over onto his back. So Voldemort's face was squished in the fluffy pillow.

"Quirrell!" He tried to yell, but it came out muffled. Quirrell snored in response.

"Oi! Quirrell!" Voldie yelled again, execpt louder. The professor did nothing but lay still.

Voldemort was frustrated. He could hardly breathe! He screamed, at the top of his lungs, "QUIRRELL! IF YOU DON'T MOVE I'LL MAKE THAT FART NOISE AGAIN AND YOU'LL BE BLAMED FOR IT!"

Quirrell awoke, startled by the sound. He sat up, looking around. "Who said that?" He asked, pulling his wand out from under his pillow.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Me, you big idiot." He said.

"Oh! Sorry, my lord. What is it that you want?" Quirrell asked, situating his nightcap and putting his wand back.

"Hmmm, let me think..." The Dark Lord said sarcastically. "Oh yeah. You rolled over! We vowed never to do that!"

"I did?" The other wizard asked, "Oh my, I'm terribly sorry, my lord!"

"You better be! I could've suffocated to death! Wouldn't that be nice? Having every single headline read: 'Dark Lord Dies by Pillow'? No!"

"I said I was sor-"

"I don't care, Quirrell! You almost killed me! Does that not go through your pathertic mind?"

Quirrell gasped, hurt. His bottom lip began to quiver. He then buried his face in the palms of his hands and began to cry.

"Oh, Quirrell. Man up and-" Voldemort began to say, but was cut off by his slave's bawling. "Quirrell...c'mon the other professor are gonna hear and-" But Quirrell still sobbed and blew his nose into his sheets.

"I'm a failure in life!" He wailed. Voldemort sighed, wishing his could silence him with the Killing Curse. "I failed at s-serving you, my lord! I failed at betting who was going to win the Quidditch match last week against Professor Sprout! And-and-" He stopped to weep again.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "How can I expect you to rule the world with me if you cry at every insult?" He asked. Quirrell stopped for a moment as he listened to his master. "I mean, for Merlin's sake! You're carrying the _Dark Lord _on the back of your head!"

Quirrell nodded slowly. "You're-" He sniffed, "You're right! Others should be trembling in my presence!"

"Yeah! There ya go, Quirrell! Be the Dark Wizard you were suppose to be!" Voldie encouraged.

"YEAH!" Quirrell pumped his fist in the air as he stood on his bed.

Well, he must of said it rather loud, because then Professor McGonagall yelled from down the hall, "SHUT UP! SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!"

Quirrell blushed and lowered himself onto the bed. "Don't worry, Quirrell." Voldemort said as the other wizard began to lay on his side, "When I'm in full power, we'll be telling _her _to shut up!"

"Yeah!" The professor said with a large yawn, "G'night, my lord..."

"Good night, Quirrell." He said back, "And have sweet dreams about world domination..."

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><p><strong>AN: Another chapter done! Please review and thanks for reading!**

**HP 4Eva!**


	4. Unicorn Blood Tastes Awful

**Thanks to all who have read and reviewed! And I apologize for the wait...I was on vacation and didn't have wireless! :(**

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><p><strong>Unicorn Blood Tastes Awful<strong>

"_Avada Kedavra!" _Quirrell whispered to the unfortunate unicorn, pointing his wand directly at it. The silver animal fell to the forest ground, dead.

"Yes! Yes!" Voldemort said before a cough, "Now, drink it, Quirrell!"

"Y-yes, my lord!" His slave said as he put his wand away and walked towards the unicorn. He then knelt down beside it, and lowered his cloaked head to it's body. "Oh, it smells!" He moaned.

"Shut up and drink!" His master ordered. "I am becoming weak, Quirrell, and only this can sustain my life until we find the Stone!"

"Yes, my lord. I know, my lord." Quirrell said, "But-"

"No 'buts'! Now drink!" Voldemort ordered harshly.

"Oh..." Quirrell groaned again as he leaned down, and began to suck it's blood.

The Dark Lord sighed as he felt the power of the blood flow through him and Quirrell. But then, the professor stopped, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Wha-? Quirrell! Continue! Now!"

"But, my lord! It's tastes so _awful!" _He told him, a pained look on his face.

"Do I look like I care?" Voldie asked.

"Technically, I can't see you." Quirrell pointed out.

"Oh, shut up and drink." Voldemort snarled at him. Quirrell sighed and decsended toward the dead unicorn again. "Yes...yes!" Voldemort said as more blood entered Quirrell's body. The professor just groaned again.

Then a scream came from infront of them. Quirrell looked up from the unicorn. A short blond kid holding a lantern and a large dog and Harry Potter stood before them a few yards away.

"Take care of them." Voldemort whispered, not knowing who the people were. Quirrell stood and swept towards them. The blond kid and the dog ran away, frightened. But Potter fell and had a pained look on his face. But before Quirrell could reach him, a centaur came.

Being Quirrell, he ran when the creature came. He fled into the forest. "Quirrell! What the-? Go back!" The Dark Lord said as they kept continuing into the forest.

"B-but, my lord!" Quirrell stuttered as he jumped over a log, "There was a centaur! He came to protect Potter!"

"I don't care! I didn't finish-" Then he paused, "Did you say _POTTER?"_

"Yes! He and another boy and a dog were there!"

"Then why didn't you take care of him?" Voldemort asked, very upset.

Quirrell stopped, panting. "I. Told. You." He said, breathing heavily. "Centaur."

"Oh, Quirrell. You're such a wimp." Voldie said to him.

Quirrell dipped his head. "I'm sorry, my lord."

"You better be." Voldemort muttered. "Now, take me to the castle. Pronto. I'm in the mood for a hot, bubble bath."

Quirrell sighed. "But, we just took one last night."

Voldie rolled his eyes. "So? I want another. Do it, Quirrell."

His slave sighed again and headed towards Hogwarts, ready to prepare for his master's bath.

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><p><strong>AN: So, what did you think? What would you like to happen next? Please review and I promise I'll get the next chapter out there ASAP. Thanks again!**


	5. Love Advice From Voldie?

**Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are amazing!**

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><p><strong>Love Advice from Voldie?<strong>

Quirrell sat at the bar at the Three Broomsticks, twitching silently to himself as other students and teachers and wizards and witches stayed away from him, thinking he wanted to be by himself. The thing was, he was never alone.

The professor took a sip from his mug of butterbeer, checking out the barmaid Madam Rosmerta, who was serving drinks to a pair of bearded wizards. She was quite attractive, with those curves and blond-ish brown hair. And not to mention-

"Pssst! Quirrell!" Whispered none other than Lord Voldemort. He hadn't had any fresh air for almost two hours now.

"Y-yes?" Quirrell whispered back, making sure no one was listening. Of course, no one was. Who would want to pay attention to a twitchy professor?

"What are you doing? I can hardly see anything from the crack in the turban!" Voldemort said quietly.

The professor looked down at his butterbeer, still hoping no one would notice him talking to his turban. "I-I'm drinking butterbeer, my lord." He muttered.

"Boring." Voldie said simply. "Is there any hot chicks here? Something interesting to look at? Not that darkness isn't interesting, Quirrell. It just gets old after awhile."

Quirrell blushed slightly, glancing at Madam Rosmerta, who was now wiping a spilled drink off the counter top. Voldemort must of noticed this, because then he said, "Oooo Quirrell's got a crush!"

"Hey!" The professor said a little too loud. Luckily, the three students passing behind him didn't notice.

"Who is it? A barmaid? A professor? If it's Trelawny I swear-"

"No! It's no one!" Quirrell protested. His napkin then fell to the ground. As he reached to pick it up, he forgot to realize that the back of his turban was now facing Rosmerta.

Voldemort then wolf-whistled at the sight of her. Quirrell sat up quickly and glanced around, wondering who heard it. Only one of the bearded wizards looked at him for a second and then went back to his drink.

Quirrell, suddenly very embarrassed, rushed into the men's room. It was empty, but had an abandoned chocolate frog bouncing by itself. The professor then burst out, "Why did you do that?" He hissed to his master.

"Because I can." He said, "And I'm actually _man _enough to do it! Unlike some!"

Quirrell stopped his foot. "I am too a man!"

"Prove it! Say a few pick-up lines to Rosmerta!"

"Wha-? No! I-I can't." Quirrell stammered, "I'm never good at talking to girls."

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "That's why I'm here, silly! Just let me do the talking, and you're the facial expressions!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! I'm your master! No do it!" Voldie yelled, and Quirrell jumped and straightened up and walked out of the bathroom casually. He sat down at the bar and finished his butterbeer so he could order another from Rosmerta.

And he did, in a shaky voice. As Rosmerta filled up his mug Voldemort cleared his throat and said, "Hey, Rosmerta! Are you using the Confundus charm or are you just naturally mind blowing?" He said in the best impression of Quirrell's voice.

People at the bar looked at him. Quirrell blushed fiercely as Rosmerta turned to give him a puzzled look. "Um..." She said, bringing him his butterbeer. "Thank you, Professor?" She then began to walk away as the people began to talk again.

"Oh, Rosmerta!" The Dark Lord cried out, "My love for you burns like a dying phoenix!" More people stared and Rosmerta looked at Quirrell with a raised eyebrow, then looked away before Voldemort could say. "Also, you must be magical, because I've fallen under your spell!"

Rosmerta crossed her arms and turned slowly again, unimpressed. Quirrell opened his mouth to explain, but instead Voldie said, "Being without you is like being afflicted with the Cruciatus Curse!"

More laughed at Quirrell's pick-up lines as the professor blushed even more. He again opened his mouth to apologize, but again his master said, "f you were a dementor, I'd become a criminal just to get your kiss."

Rosmerta had had enough. She picked up Quirrell's drink and threw it at him. His red face and purple turban and robes got soaked. More wizards and witches laughed at him. "Get out before I make you." The landlady warned him.

"But, baby, I promise you can have the portkey to my heart!" Voldemort said as Quirrell wiped away butterbeer from his chin. He glanced up at Rosmertas angry face. She began to pull out her wand...

"I-I'm leaving! I'm leaving!" Quirrell cried, holding up his hands. He then rushed out of the Three Broomsticks and down the road.

He squeezed some of his wet robes as Voldie said to him, "Well, that went well."

"Wha-? No it didn't! I got kicked out of my favorite restaurant because of you!" He yelled at his master. "And I got laughed at and butterbeer thrown at my face..."

"Oh, quit being a baby." The Dark Lord told him. "And besides, she wasn't worth it if not even those pick-up lines worked on her. I mean, even Bellatrix fell for them!"

The professor dabbed his face with some of the dry part of his robes. "Well, at least I learned something."

"And what's that?"

"Never, _ever, _take love advice from you."

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><p><strong>AN: Bam! Another story done! And if you want to know where I got those pick-up lines from or you want to learn more, go to pickuplinesgalore .com/harrypotter (I don't own them!) **

**Also, please review and tell me what you think or what you would like to see Voldemort and Quirrell do next!**

**HP 4eva!**


	6. Detention With the Dark Lord

**Thanks for all the reviews guys! And sorry for the wait, but I really hope you like this chapter!**

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><p><strong>Detention With the Dark Lord<strong>

Professor Quirrell sat at his desk, grading the second years test. It was quite boring, and since the Dark Lord kept going on about his new plan, it was also annoying.

"-and on Halloween, when the feast is going on, you'll bring in a troll. A mountain troll, maybe. And we'll-" Voldemort told Quirrell excitedly.

"Wait, what?" Quirrell asked, "A troll?"

"Yeah! The perfect diversion!" Voldemort told him, "We'll release him during the feast. Then-"

"But my Lord!" Quirrell protested, not exactly enjoying this idea. He was cut off when the door of his office opened, and appeared two identical redheads.

"We're here, Professor." Said the left Weasley twin, giving Quirrell a bored look.

Quirrell quickly adjusted his turban, which had been loose before to give Voldemort some air to breathe. "Oh! S-sit down, and I'll g-get you some p-parchment to do your l-lines on." He stuttered, getting up and out of his chair.

The twins rolled their eyes and sat at a table towards the middle. Quirrell got some blank parchment as Voldmort hissed, "You never told me you had to serve detention tonight! And who are the kids?" His servant didn't answer right away, instead he gave the students the parchment as they fought who took whose quill.

"I swear, Fred, if you broke it again-" The right one said to the other.

"George, I swear, I _don't have it!_" Said his twin, Fred.

"Well where is it!" George yelled while throwing his arms in the air.

Quirrell fidgeted, not sure what to do. Voldemort gave a tiny gasp and whispered, "_Are these those Weasley twins?_"

The professor gave a tiny nod and felt the Dark Lord's anger surge. George eventually found a spare quill in his shoe and asked, "What do we have to write again?"

"W-well M-M-Mr. Weasley, I w-want you and y-your brother t-to write 'I will n-not place d-dungbombs on student's c-c-chairs."

Fred smiled over at George, remembering their trick. George grinned back and then said to Quirrell, "How many times?"

"A h-hundred." He answered, trembling. George sighed and began to write. Fred gave a tiny groan and started as well. Quirrell walked back to his desk and sat down, about to continue grading the tests.

Voldemort then whispered to Quirrell, "_Well did you torture them for what they did to me?_" Quirrell snapped his head up, seeing if the twins heard that. They were still writing.

His slave shook his head and Voldemort said quietly, "Ugh! Well why not? They couldn't knocked off your stupid turban and then our secret wouldn't be so secret anymore!"

Quirrell leaned his forehead against his left hand. It's not like he could physically abuse the students! This detention was a horrible idea...

"Hey! Maybe you can just feed them a poison cupcake or something...make it look like an accident!" The Dark Lord suggested. George glanced around the room, as if he might of heard something. He shrugged and went back to writing. Quirrell stood slowly and walked to another room, twitching and wanting to have a word with his master...

Once the door was closed behind them, Quirrell burst out, "Why must you think of torture while I have detention in motion AND I'm grading papers?"

The Noseless One sighed, "Its my nature, Quirrell, I'm sorry. But they-"

"Are just little kids! Do you know what would happen if I harmed them? That's right, me being FIRED!" He exaggerated the lat word so his master would understand.

Voldemort was silent for a moment. He then said, "But...maybe just a little punishment?"

Quirrell crossed his arms. "No. I am having them write lines, isn't that torture enough?"

"I wouldn't know...I haven't had hands of my own for a decade." Voldie pointed out.

Quirrell rubbed his eyes slowly, a migraine entering his skull. "Look, just be silent for the rest of the detention. Please?"

"Fine." His master said unhappily. They walked back in just as the redheaded twins were getting up.

"A-are you done?" Professor Quirrell asked. Fred handed him the parchment with the hundred written lines, nodding. Quirrell examined it, and George handed his parchment over as well. "Wait...y-you didn't use m-magic, did you?"

They both shook their heads in unison, and left the office. Quirrell kept looking at their sheets, confused on their fast writing. "But, this is...?"

Voldemort sighed, "Oh Quirrell, you're so gullible."

"Huh?"

"Hello! They just probably duplicated the lines with magic while we were out of the room!" He shouted.

"Oh." Was all the professor said. From then on, he never gave out another detention, no matter how hard the Slytherin boy knocked him off his feet with an accidental jinx. And the fire incident...and the bloody nose...

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><p><strong>AN: Oh Qurrill, just trying to do his job...anyway I apologize again for the delay. It's not my fault! My Pottermore email came! (It's quite addicting...)**

**Remember, leave a review! And thanks to all who Favorited and put this story on their alerts! **

**HP 4eva!**


	7. Being A Man Equals No Flowers

**Whoa! I haven't updated since forever! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!**

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><p><strong>Being A Man=No Flowers<strong>

It had to be perfect. That's why Quirrell concentrated as hard as he could to say, "_W__ingardium Leviosa!" _His Alder wand was pointed at a flattened daisy that was laying on his wooden desk. It then began to float in the air, Quirrell was taking special care to guide it towards the glass frame. It slowly landed on top of it, and not a single petal was ruined.

The professor sighed. "Aren't they lovely, my lord?" He asked Voldemort while he finished putting the daisy into the picture frame.

The Dark Lord gave an exaggerated snore in response.

Quirrell looked hurt, "What? You don't enjoy pressing wildflowers?"

If he could see, Voldemort gave him a sarcastic expression, "Oh yes, I want to spend the rest of my days collecting flowers and flattening them for fun."

The professor blinked, confused, "But...it's a wonderful hobby! Seeing the detail of the petals and leaves, and-"

"Quirrell, I do not care." Voldemort told him, "It's not...manly."

"Manly?"

"Yes. To be manly is to get all the ladies and have abs and to fish and hunt down mudbloods and-"

"Wait, what was that last part?"

"-and to eat jerky and to prefer big dogs and to not use skin care products!" Voldy finished.

"But, I always use skin care products! It makes me look younger by 10 years!" Quirrell protested.

"Uh-huh, sure. But pressing flowers...that's just weird, Quirrell. You want to be manly, right?"

"I...I guess?"

"Then no more flowers!"

Quirrell looked sadly down at his daisy, then at all the other framed, colorful flowers scattered around his desk. He had been working on them all day instead of grading test papers like he should be.

"Quirrell...!" Voldemort warned.

"I will, alright?" He got up, gathered them all, and walked towards his trunk sitting by the fireplace. He opened it and began to place them all in there.

"Are you destroying them?" His master asked.

"Huh?"

"You heard me! Destroy those flowers!"

Quirrell hesitated. "But..."

"DO IT!"

"No!" Quirrell was shocked by his sudden bravery, and he could tell Voldemort getting angry.

"_What did you say?_"

"N-nothing!" He quickly took the daisy one and tossed it in the fireplace. The flames crackled around it and Quirrell began to sniff.

"Don't you cry, Quirrell!" The Dark Lord demanded, "Don't you feel better? More manly?"

"N-no!" Tears were now flowing down his cheeks as he clutched his violet primrose framed flower in his hands. He didn't want to ruin another one of his precious plants.

"Ugh. You're hopeless." Voldy rolled his eyes as his slave sobbed some more.

"B-but, my lord!" He choked out, "I don't feel any different! Except sadness and guilt!"

"Eh, you'll get over it." Voldemort would've shrugged if he could.

"But that was the daisy Professor Sprout helped me find! It took me weeks to dry and press, and now it's gone! Forever!" Quirrell cried some more, sinking down to his knees.

His master made a disgusted noise. He wished he wouldn't have ordered that, because Quirrell's sobs annoyed him. "Fine. Whatever. You don't have to burn anymore flowers."

"R-really?" He brushed some tears away.

"Yes. Just...please stop bawling like a little girl." pleaded Voldemort.

"Yes! Absolutely, my lord!" He gathered his frames and rushed over to his desk, where he went to work to polish them yet again.

The Dark Lord decided to take a nap and let Quirrell do his thing in peace.

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><p><strong>AN: Yay! Another chapter is done! I got the pressed flower-idea from Pottermore, where the amazing J.K. Rowling said that was one of Quirrell's hobbies, and I found it sweet and hilarious. I hoped you liked it! Please review!**

**HP 4Eva!**


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